Back In Six

Beijing supplemental: Handsome Guy

2009-08-13T04:29:00.000-07:00

The girls in the knock off clothes market at Silk Street are possibly more aggressive than the boys in the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. Possibly. Their angle in their bid to get you to buy something crap tends to be flattery. My fave quip (which, although I’d like to think was aimed specifically at me, I suspect was repeated to every bloke who walked past):

‘hey handsome guy, you be even better looking in this shirt’

Beijing

2009-08-13T04:22:00.001-07:00

Sorry updates have been a bit lacking of late, kinda got out the habit in China, but I shall attempt to address the issue now. So yeah, sleazy late night phone calls aside we got to Beijing without incident and its awesome from the start. Like really awesome.

Lady in the airport goes out of her way to ensure we have a taxi, walks us to the stand, stops the car, explains our destination to the driver and fixes the price. We get to the hostel and its cool. The staff are all smiles and speak good English and there is a real buzz about the place. Amanda (they all give themselves English names yeah coz we cant pronounce Chinese) the manager is young, dynamic, determined and full of helpful advice. She’s friendly but you get the impression she don’t take any shit either. Pretty much the epitome of every Chinese person we meet. Hostel is full of people from everywhere you can think of, is right in the thick of things at the end of some street bursting with life and beer from the shop next door is 3 yuan (30 pence) for a 660ml bottle.

So our introduction to the capital of the worlds most populous country couldn’t have been better really, the rooms are nice and as I say The Happy Dragon hostel downtown Beijing is possibly my favourite place to be anywhere ever. Go there, you’ll see what I mean.

So we do the sights; Forbidden City is cool, very Chinese as you might expect and full of cool looking buildings. We go the great wall as well, catch a ski lift up to it (its how they got up there when they built it I reckon) and catch the toboggan back down (haha). The best bit about Beijing for me though was just being there and soaking it all up. Everyone we encounter, and I mean everyone, speaks English and goes out of their way to help us. The people here give a really good account of themselves, even those doing menial jobs do it with a quite pride and dedication to what they are doing that you don’t get at home. The streets are clean, the traffic is well directed and on every corner there is some dude in a uniform smiling at you only too eager to help out.

I’m waxing lyrical I know but Beijing just seems to work; there is history and culture and character by the bucketful, its easy and cheap to get around, the food is exceptional and cheap and the people are great. The way people we have met conduct themselves makes me kinda ashamed to think about the reception foreigners get at home. If China is the next world superpower I can see why; it’s the people that do it. There’s a determination, optimism and forward thinkingness about them that I really admire. There isn’t any arrogance and they just give a really good account of themselves.

Whoops used that phrase twice I just realised. The account they give of themselves is really good ok. As accounts you give of yourself go the account given to me by these people, of themselves, was really good. If I had to pick a good self account someone had given me as an example of a good account of yourself to give I would pick the account of themselves given to me by these people.

Now obviously I didn’t meet all 1.3 billion Chinese people during my 5 nights in Beijing and I’m sure there is poverty and human rights violations by the bucketful too. They probably have their fare share of wankers as well. Plus your in danger of getting run over by a tank if you don’t tow the line but from what I saw the people here are awesome and give an example we could all learn from.

But anyways enough sycophantic sociological semantic bullshit. Beijing rocks, come here and you’ll see why. Things that stuck out for me were the guy at the bbq restaurant who ordered our whole meal for us with typical unassuming helpfulness (thus giving a good account of himself in the process), the Russian expat who helped us get a taxi, The Happy Dragon staff who, I have no doubt, could quickly and efficiently organise world peace with a smile if someone asked them to and the street the hostel was on which had everything Chinese you could imagine. Streetside food vendors, knock off clothes shops, dodgy ‘hair salons’ open well past midnight, old men in their underpants playing majong and more strange writing you don’t understand than you could shake a calligraphy scroll at.

Our time here was great, next stop Shanghai. ‘city of sin and ill gotten gains where fortunes are made on the role of a die’.

We’ll see Mr. Lonely Planet China. We’ll see.

China Part 2: Sex Massage?

2009-08-03T22:29:00.000-07:00

We arrive in Urumqui (the place where riots will start in 2 days time leading to many deaths and blocking of facebook. It wasn't us gov honest). Our connecting flight leaves at 7am or something but the airport closes at 2am.

Confused, tired and shocked at the price of a coffee we wander around aimlessly for a bit wondering what to do. We are just about resigned to having to pay for hotel rooms for a few hours until the airport reopens when Emma hits upon the bright idea of asking someone what we should do. Turns out that included in the price of our flights is a complimentary hotel room for the night. Now you dont get that at home.

The free taxi ride to the free hotel takes a little bit too long for comfort. Its late, we are in a strange city and are convinced he is just gonna drive us around for a few hours until the airport reopens when we pull up to a builing loosely resmebling a hotel.

We check into the rooms for our 4 hours of sleep and just as im drifting off the phone rings. After wondering who it could be and pointing at the phone for a bit I pick it up.

The conversation, at about 3 in the morning, went something like this

ME: (confused and sleepy and irratable) Hello
FEMALE CHINESE VOICE: a bunch of stuff in chinese
ME: what?
FCV: another bunch of stuff in chinese
ME: I dont understand, do you speak english?
FCV: ah, you want massage?
ME: ?... no thank you
FCV: sex masssage?
ME: ah a sex massage, I thought you just meant a normal massage, why didn't you say earlier？
FCV: you want?
ME: NO. can I go to sleep now please?
FCV: more stuff in chinese
ME: hang up (I mean I hung up, not I said ‘hang up’.)

Turns out Alan and John both had very similar late night conversations too. Welcome to China. Land of the sex massage.

China: Part One

2009-08-03T22:06:00.001-07:00

A bunch of us have decided to leave the truck for a couple weeks and go to Beijing, Shanghai and Xi’an (where the terracota warriors are), we are gonna meet up with the truck again in Tibet. We are gonna fly to Beijing which kinda breaks the overland rule but what the heck - we’re going to Beijing. The truck will be travelling through some desert which im a bit gutted to miss but cant go to China and not see Beijing so off we go.

First we gotta get across the border and make the flight, no easy task. We gotta get high up in the mountains and cross some pass which takes ages. Then the Chinese take everybodies temperature, twice, because of swine flu and then like most Border guards a bunch of them stand around doing nothing for a while so we can get rained on.

After holding a thermometer under my arm for five minutes my bag gets searched and I have to explain what talken powder is to some dude in a facemask.. The clock is ticking and we gotta get to the hotel we are not staying in so we can then get a taxi to the airport and catch the plane.

The hotel staff greet us with a traditional dance (what joy) which, being concentious in it for the real experience travelling types, we sit through politely smiling and trying not to look at our watches.
Eventually 2 taxis and 2 different prices later we are in the airport. Next stop Urumqui, then Beijing.

Ill

2009-08-03T22:02:00.000-07:00

No blogs in China and no facebook either; all the noodles you can eat though. Finally figured out a way round the Chinese firewall (I is well good at computers) so can now do some updating.

After Osh we bush camped in the wild beautiful rolling hills of Kyrgystan. We hung out with some nomads and watched them play goat polo. No shit, Goat Polo. Like normal Polo except played by nomads with a dead goat instead of by posh people with weird hammers and a ball. It was cool, although there wasn't really an outer boundary to the playing field and Emmas tent got trampled on by a bunch of horse riding, goat polo playing nomads. Its ok though coz Robin got it on video so if she wants to sue she can.

I didn't really enjoy any of this to the full though because I was ill for about a week. Pretty much as ill as you can be without dying. I think I actually did die for a little bit and then come back to life again (a bit like Gandalf) but no-one else will believe me. I fought a Balrog too but nobody saw.

Anway I had to endure the worst truck ride of my life lead on the floor of the thing for about 4 hours while we drove over very bumpy roads to Bushkek, the capital. I puked into a bucket every half hour or so, kept on having to go to the toliet and turned grey. Not pale, not washed out but Grey. John Major in spitting image style deffo not maybe grey. Not Fun. I stayed on for a few days in a hotel to recover and then met up with team Australia for the big push into China. Being ill was rubbish. Full on, no holds barred embracement of the worlds quisine has now been replaced with the caution of a very cautious person.

Osh

2009-06-13T04:43:00.000-07:00

12/06/09

We left Uzbekistan and entered Kyrgyzstan today. The border was a joke. Borders seem to consist of little big men in uniforms standing around doing nothing. There are normally loads of people waiting to get through the border, roughly the same amount of men in uniforms stood around doing nothing and at least one guy in a uniform with more stripes or pips or sashes than the other guys standing around doing nothing whilst looking moody as well. There was a lot of shouting today, a lot of shouting and zero productivity. I hate border guards. They are all shit at their job and sleep with chickens.

We are staying in soviet apartment blocks in Osh. I am in Osh today. Before today I never even knew Osh existed. My bed is well comfy and I have a room to myself. Tomorrow I’m having a lie in. Breakfast can kiss my ass.

Fergana Valley

2009-06-13T04:41:00.002-07:00

11/06/09

This valley is the most populated area of Uzbekistan and the industrial centre. We had a tour of some silk producing factory and saw how they made silk from worm all the way through to finished fabric. Was like going back in time. Is a real craft and there are a bunch of stages. To become a ‘master’ at one of the stages can take years. Every machine or whatever had a pupil and a master working at it. Was cool. Felt a bit Chinese, like they were learning Kung Fu or something, except that they were making silk. We getting close to China now, cant wait.

Stayed in a big fuck off Soviet hotel in Fergana in the evening. Went out to a café Lonely Planet describes as ‘bohemian’. They had written ‘art café’ on the wall but that was about as Bohemian as it got. Food was nice though. On way back there was an outdoor dance floor with 2 dudes mixing tunes. They were pretty much the worse mixers of tunes ever. Would have sounded better if they had just let one tune finish then started another one.

Our hotel looks like the shining. It’s big and empty and has echoes. On the 8th floor is a bar. Weirdly this wasn’t empty but was full of locals. They gave us vodka and made us dance. In the morning a weird looking Russian lady in a turquoise dress made me eggs. It’s a very strange place. There is a sign in the hotel for massages. I think you get more than a massage if you go in the room.

Tashkent

2009-06-13T04:41:00.001-07:00

I am tired and the weather is very hot. Got a cab to a Syrian restaurant and had probably the best meal I have had in the whole of Uzbekistan. It was called Arabian chicken. The food inthis country hasn’t really been anything to write home about. They have meat on skewers or soup or dumplings and that is pretty much it. All three are nice but you can only eat the same thing so much. Tonight was a nice change. Went to bed early and finished my book – Midnights Children. It’s immense, all about India and masterfully told. Took me ages to read but worth it. I wanna go India now. Laters.

More Samarkand

2009-06-13T04:40:00.001-07:00

09/06/09

Lazy day today. A lot of Team Australia are suffering from dodgy Tummies. Not me though. Wandered the city, hung out and played backgammon and caught up on my washing. I say ‘caught up’ what I mean is I gave it to some Lady at the hotel and she did it for me. Tashkent tomorrow, the capital. We only got one night though.

Samarkand

2009-06-13T04:39:00.002-07:00

08/06/09

Third of the great silk road cities and the one with the biggest and most monumental buildings yet. The registran defies description. Its epic. Look for pictures of the Samarkand registran on google or something. Its impressive and looks like nothing I have seen before. I’m loving these cities and the fact that we are in hotels the whole time we are here. This hotel is called furcaz or something and it rocks. We all have little balconies overlooking a courtyard with little breakfast tables set up. There is also free tea and apricots and cool little traditional tea benches. Power cut aside its one of my favourite places we have stayed so far.

More Bukhara

2009-06-13T04:39:00.001-07:00

07/06/09

They have an awesome Minaret here from like the 9th or 10th century. Its cool (for a minaret). Is pretty much the hottest day ever though. I am a sweaty pink tourist who has to pay more for water than the locals. I’m enjoying myself though and I’m on holiday. Suck on that locals.

Bukhara

2009-06-13T04:37:00.002-07:00

06/06/09

Historical Silk Road City number two. I’m being a bit flippant about these places but they really are amazing. So much history and architecture unlike anything back home. They are otherworldly. They are deffo worth a visit, even if all you do is wander round and stare at the buildings. There was culture and science and religion and grandiose buildings here when we were still painting our faces blue and running round the forest shouting ‘ugabugabuga’

Two British officers got beheaded here in Eighteen Hundred and blah blah blah. I saw the ‘bug pit’ they were kept in for years. Our hotel is awesome too. Its called Lyabi house hotel and is right in the centre. If you come to Bukhara stay there. Its in Lonely Planet and is authentic and has atmosphere and blah blah blah.

Went to a club in the evening. It had bowls of fruit on the tables. Danced like an idiot to Uzbek dance music. Is pretty much like normal dance music but with weird ethnic instruments played over the top.

More Khiva

2009-06-13T04:37:00.001-07:00

05/06/09

Its still cool to look at but the food sucks. All they do is tell you what they don’t have. What they do have is pot luck and usually bullshit.

Khiva

2009-06-13T04:35:00.000-07:00

04/06/09

Khiva. First of the great historic Silk Road cities we are visiting. We deffo aren’t in Kansas any more.

I’ve read about this place and its infamous slave market. It doesn’t disappoint. No slaves today though. I read ‘The Great Game’ by Peter Hopkirk. It’s a top book all about central Asia and British and Russian exploits here in the nineteenth century. It’s based on the written records of the East India Company and is full of thoroughly British officers stealing countries through the cunning use of flags and occasionally getting beheaded by angry Khans. Khiva features heavily. The book is semi fictional. The events are accurate but he has dramatised them to make it read more like a novel than a series of letters and reports.

Once again (semi) fiction has endeared a place far more that boring bullshit facts. Check the book for pictures of this place, its unreal (I haven’t put them on yet but I will). Minarets and Madrassas a go go. Plus a lot, like seriously a lot, of turquoise tile work.

Hay Fevers Revenge

2009-06-13T04:34:00.002-07:00

Another bushcamp. I have no clean clothes, I’m on cook duty and I haven’t showered in days. Hay fever is making a determined comeback too. I feel awful. First time I’ve resented cook duty and almost wished I wasn’t here. Almost.

I hate my allergy. Fucking Pollen.

Aral Sea

2009-06-13T04:34:00.001-07:00

02/06/09

We’ve come to see the Aral Sea, or what’s left of it. The Soviets dug massive irrigation channels in the 70’s and the sea level and area has been decreasing ever since. Ironically they dig the channels so they could grow cotton in the surrounding area but as the water levels dropped and the sea began to shrink dust and chemicals and salt from the sea bed were carried in the air damaging the crops the irrigation channels had allowed to grow.

We’re in a village called Moneau. Used to be a fishing village but there is no sea for miles now. Just a sandy desert that used to be the seabed. It’s littered with old abandoned fishing ships slowly rusting away. Is a bizarre site, huge ships beached on sand with no water in sight.

We bush camped here and a herd of cows were herded right through the camp right outside the tents. They shit everywhere. Nice.

Desert

2009-06-13T04:33:00.000-07:00

01/06/09

Its here finally. The desert. Its hot, gritty and if you live on a big blue truck and stop by the roadside to make lunch the sand most deffo gets in the sandwiches. Glad to be here though. Kazakhstan was ‘interesting’ but we’re across the border and into Uzbekistan now. Back on track. Kind of.

We stayed in a traditional Uzbek tea house. Its very Silk Road and probably hasn’t changed much for centuries. Can imagine caravans of camels and traders staying here. The shower was a sauna with buckets of hot and cold water for washing. Even had hot stones for steam. Was a very authentic experience, sometimes though you just want a normal shower. Especially when you been in the desert for days and you got no clean clothes.

A long road, maybe the wrong road and it’s the road to fuck knows where.

2009-06-13T04:32:00.002-07:00

30/05/09

We are driving on the bumpiest road in the world. ‘Road’ is being kind. It’s on the map but it’s more of a dirt track wagons drive down. Think ‘desert road truckers’ and your there. Its hot, tempers are short (a lot of people had a rough time of it in the rain) and some Azerbaijan dude sold Tim dodgy diesel. We are headed for Biayou and then onto the Kazakh/Uzbek border to cross into Uzbekistan tomorrow and get back on track.

However the road/track means we are averaging about 25mph and the dodgy diesel has already cost Tim 3 fuel filters. Plus constantly draining the Engine has got air into the system so the Truck keeps grinding to a halt every so often.

Eventually we don’t get more than a few hundred metres without the Truck clunking to a halt. We can see town, just, so Cheryl decides to hitchhike in to try and sort accommodation and help for the truck. She needs accompanying (no women alone) so I go with her and get to play crew member for the afternoon.

Its cool and the most fun I’ve had all day. We flag down a car, which luckily turns out to have Police officers in it, and get a lift into town. We then manage to communicate via the cunning use of diagrams and the point it book (Thanks once again Gaz and Sophie) exactly what we need.

We haggle with 2 different hotel owners, check rooms, organise a tow truck and get a sim card all via hand gestures and pointing. I got a feel for what Cheryl does day in day out and how difficult it can be. We weren’t planning on coming here and we don’t speak the language yet we managed to sort hotel rooms for 24 people and a truck with a tow rope. Brilliant.

Later on Alan and I managed to organise dinner for 18 in the most backwater of backwater towns I’ve ever been to. We got 2 eggs apiece for everyone and some chicken with bread and tea from 2 women in the Kazakh equivalent of a greasy spoon café. Sounds easy. It wasn’t.

Bushcamp

2009-06-13T04:32:00.001-07:00

29/05/09

Bushcamp in Kazakhstan, just off the road. Its kind of semi arid, not quite desert but looks like the bit just before the desert. Uneventful really. We ate, we went to bed and then in the middle of the night it rained. A lot.

Debbie and Amy’s tent collapsed on them in the rain and they had to spend the night in the truck. They are not happy bunnies and everything they own is wet. 7th Penwortham scouts taught me to hammer tent pegs in at 45 degrees as far as they will go. Thank you 7th Penwortham scouts, our tent stayed up.

As I rolled the tent up in the morning Tim told me to watch out for Scorpions. Scorpions yeah. Woop de woo.

More Ladas.

2009-06-13T04:29:00.000-07:00

28/05/09

There are no Taxis in Kazakhstan. There are men driving Ladas. If you get into a Lada a man is driving some or all of the following things will happen:

- He will go the wrong way (even if you show him a photograph of the hotel and point the right way)

- If you get him to go the right way he will go too far

- He will do an illegal u-turn in front of a police officer who will chase him down some side road, stop him and remove his keys and make him sit in the Police car. This will make you think it is a tourist scam and you will get worried about your money and more men appearing.

- If getting into a Lada a man is driving at night he will be drunk and will forget to put it into reverse. He will then drive it forwards straight into a street lamp before going the wrong way.

All these things happened. Most of them to me.

We’re in Aktau, Kazakh port on the Caspian Sea. Our hotel is next to a brothel. There are 4 beds to a room, its filthy and there are only two showers. We think maybe it’s the hotel next doors customers use. A theory backed up by the unused condoms on top of one of the wardrobes.

Aktau is the kind of place where weird things happen. I like it. Got drunk on vodka and red shark (like red bull but different). Got into an argument with the parents of the singer who was singing in the bar we were in. I think we weren’t paying their son enough attention. Had to climb through the window of the hotel to get back in and even found some food that resembled a sausage roll. Sort of.

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

2009-06-13T04:27:00.000-07:00

27/05/09

Kazakhstan. What a bunch of bullshit munchers. Ferry got to the Kazakh port of Aktau at about midday. It stayed just off the coast until midnight. Then it docked. Big ferries pulling up their anchor when you are trying to sleep are pretty loud. Pretty much loud enough to deffo wake you up. We were allowed off the ferry at about 2am. Oh joy. Onto customs and passport control.

Two twelve-year-old kids in army uniforms took about four hours to stamp the passports of twenty-four people. Its now 6am. Some dude with an x-ray machine then asked each of us (there are 24 yeah) to list all the countries we are travelling to (there are 21 yeah). 24 x 21 is fucking ages. He asked the women over 30 why no kids, asked Lindsay to stay in Kazakhstan and eventually let us through into Kazakh customs room number 3. We made a cup of tea in room number 3 and had to wait until they let the truck out which should have happened at 9am. At 3pm Tim finally drove the truck out through the gate.

So 27 hours from Port to outside customs and 13 of those hours in customs itself. Welcome to Kazakhstan guys. Yaskamash.

Taylor

2009-06-13T04:25:00.000-07:00

26/05/09

We met Taylor on the ferry. Taylor is Canadian. He is also a real traveller. You can tell Taylor is a real traveller because he has sewn up the crotch of his trousers with big obvious ‘hey I’m a real traveller’ type stitches and he has a silly beard. Taylor dumpster dives (gets food out of bins) and is sincere and doesn’t know what irony or cynicism is. He is vegetarian and has been to Afghanistan. I love Taylor. I think he had many interesting things to say. Seriously I do. However if I come back like Taylor shoot me. Shoot me dead.

Captains log supplemental: Fever of Hay

2009-06-13T04:24:00.000-07:00

OMG hayfever has been fucking killing me. Since Tbilisi my eyes have been streaming, my nose running and my general face type area has been puffed up like that bit in Hitch where Will Smith looks in the mirror in the supermarket and he all swelled up and shit. Like seriously I looked just like that for about 4 days. I been taking two one-a-day tablets a day, wearing my hater blockers 24/7 and blowing my way through acres of rainforest in tissue. Holiday of a lifetime yeah. Amazing experience yeah. Sneeze and cry and look weird and scare people. For fucks sake. I hope the voyage does take 5 days to give my face a break.

Hayfever kids. It’s a disease.

On a boat M.F.

2009-06-13T04:23:00.002-07:00

26/05/09

It’s a big blue watery road yeah.

We on the ferry. Its shabby, 4 to a cramped cabin and has a scary Russian speaking crew who look like the scary Russian speaking crew in some horror film about a bunch of backpackers on a ferry with a scary Russian speaking crew who speak Russian.

Baku fades into the distance. Hayfever is finally foiled by the worlds largest inland sea and I wanna hide in one of those weird pipe/tube type things on deck like Indiana Jones. Its pretty exciting too. The other side is deffo Asia and new and different and not at all like Europe.

Lada, Lada, Lada

2009-06-13T04:23:00.001-07:00

25/05/09

In Azerbaijan people mostly drive a Lada. Mostly. Baku is gritty and windy and hayfever is fucking killing me and if it doesn’t some fool in a Lada will. The city is rich with Oil money and we, uncharacteristically, are in a hotel which caters to oil tycoon types. We got a pool, sauna, room service, 2 restaurants and a price tag to match. There was free porn too. So I was told.

Tim is busy blagging his way onto the next ferry to Kazakhstan coz we cant afford to stay here more than one night. Hotel has pictures of oil rigs on the walls. Cute. Had a good wander round the city. Reading Ali and Nino has made me appreciate it more. Even though its fictional I wanna visit the places the book mentions.

I wanna be a fly on the wall while Tim bribes, blags and cajoles 24 people and a big blue truck onto a cargo ferry headed to Kazakhstan. We been told to buy our own drinking water and expect a 2 day crossing but prepare for upwards of 5. If it lasts that long we may end up having a debate about who to eat first.

Mud volcanoes, Kite Flying and Red Thai Curry in the semi arid deserts of Azerbaijan.

2009-06-13T04:22:00.000-07:00

24/05/09

Broke out the pocket kite for the first time. It rocks. Got an action shot of me doing some hardcore extreme pocket kiting. Profile pic a go go.

Tim has a big sky tiger type kite. Its pretty cool too but can you fit it in your pocket? I think not Tim, I think not.

Incidentally at Dinner last night Paul ordered an apple flavoured Shisha pipe. He got a plate of sliced apples instead. My fave misunderstanding so far.

Azerbaijan

2009-06-13T04:21:00.000-07:00

23/05/09

Azerbaijan. Muslim. Desert. Kind of. We stayed in a Caravanserai. They are like inns that are spread a day or so apart all along the Silk Road. It was awesome, stone verandas set around a courtyard. You could well imagine the camels and traders gathered there thousands of years ago. Feels like our silk road adventure has begun in suitable travelling nomad style.

The countryside is growing more arid now. Lush green has been replaced by dry yellow and harsh desert shrubs. Good news for your inexplicably susceptible hayfever sufferer from Preston. Downside is bugs are getting bigger. They fly slowly now (coz they so big) and they definitely make a substantial crunch underfoot. Great.

Lightning

2009-06-13T04:20:00.002-07:00

22/05/09

Bushcamp at Hagodekhi national park near Telavi. There was lightning. I tried to take a picture of it. I failed.

Chess innit

2009-06-13T04:20:00.001-07:00

21/05/09

Bacon sandwiches for brekkie. Enough said.

Team Australia are in homestays tonight. Peoples actual homes that they sort of rent out a bit like hotels. Except that they live there yeah.

I’m in a house with Alan, Rachel, Denis, Louise and Lindsay. The family don’t speak English but seem nice enough. Is a bit weird though, they are all sat outside and we are in their front room playing music. Haha. Invited them in but they seem happy enough outside. We’ve brought about a billion ants with us from the bushcamp too; they don’t seem to mind though. Neither do the family.

Chessed it up with Alan in the evening. One game apiece. Played draughts too, it’s a bullshit game for bullshit munchers. Makes a nice change to sit in a house and not in a field in the evening. Bit of wine, bit of chess. Quality.

Georgian version of you’ve been framed is on TV. People falling over is funny wherever you are in the world. Is more unifying than religion. Fact.

Captains log supplemental: How I feel about stuff.

2009-06-13T04:17:00.000-07:00

So far I have been mostly feeling:

Gutted about Turkmenistan.
That Europe was a little bit rushed.
Excited about the desert.
That I like Team Australia for the most part.
That the occasional girly bitchiness is boring and predictable.
That I would like to go out to local bars and clubs more rather than drinking in the hotel/camp or whatever. Do what the kids do in town wherever we are and there hasn’t been much of that yet.
That I should read more.
That it hasn’t been difficult yet.
That I miss people mainly because I wanna share funny stuff that has happened with them.
That nobody on the trip fully appreciates midgets.
That hayfever sucks. Especially when your camping in the middle of a big field.

Visas Are Go

2009-06-13T04:16:00.002-07:00

20/05/09

A few bribes not withstanding we are all now proud owners of Kazakh visas. Out of Tbilisi and onto a bushcamp. Enroute we stop off at a vineyard and learn all about Georgian wine from a crooked but kind faced old lady and some Georgian dude. We bought about 60 litres of wine to see us through Azerbaijan as alcohol isn’t always easy to come by.

Bushcamp tonight and its Amy’s 30th so we are having a fancy dress party. Not my idea. I’m wearing a pink nightie and a pink bow in my hair. I look like the eh eh eeeeeh character from Little Britain. My costume is one of the tamer ones.

All my friends say I’m zany. Kill me now.

Little Big Men

2009-06-13T04:16:00.001-07:00

19/05/09

The Kazakh embassy are giving Tim ‘a hard time’ with regard to our visas so we are in Tbilisi for another day while he tries to sort it out. Hung around the hotel all morning in case we are needed at the embassy then went on the net. My phone card battle continues as the last one I bought has been cancelled.

Played backgammon with a local in the hotel courtyard in the evening. Beat him once, more luck that judgement though. He beat me lots. Used to think there wasn’t much to this game. Its still not chess but there is more strategy than I first thought, even if you do use dice.

Swineflu 1 Odyssey 0

2009-06-13T04:15:00.002-07:00

Turkmenistan is shut. Tim told us Yesterday. Swine Flu. We gotta go round. Am gutted, its one of the most isolated countries in the world and I was well looking forward to going there. They only get like 6000 visitors a year or something. Current plan is Kazakhstan instead then back onto original route through Uzbekistan. It’s a shame but am quite excited about the unknown element of the detour as well as the potential for Borat jokes. It will be new to Tim and Cheryl and is deffo new to us; nobody quite knows what will happen. Jeeps across the dessert we think. Like full on proper desert with dunes and no water etc etc for about 800km. Biggest problem is ferries across the Caspian. They can be ‘infrequent’ as Tim diplomatically put it.

Tim has already bribed the Kazakh embassy to rush through our visas. Him and Cheryl rock. They never stop. Like today they were bribing officials, tomorrow they will be changing breaks on the truck themselves while shopping and cooking for 22 before organising fun stuff for us to do in a language they don’t speak in a country they never been to before. Being an overlander sounds like a cool job buts it’s seriously hardcore. Don’t know how they do it. They got married just before the trip too so this is like their honeymoon!

Our Biggest fear is that the Chinese border will be shut when we get there in a couple of months. No Tibet and I’ll be absolutely destroyed.

Still the glass is half full right guys? Guys…?

Pass on your postcode

2009-06-13T04:15:00.001-07:00

18/05/09

Post offices in Tbilisi are hard to find and cost a fortune. The city is pretty though. People are openly protesting to get the President to resign. It’s cool; unless you’re the president I guess. They have ‘cells’ erected all over the centre of town that they sleep in. All ages, all walks of life. Had a good wander after beating Louise at Backgammon twice (I rule).

KGB: Still Watching You.

2009-06-13T04:14:00.001-07:00

17/05/09

Tbilisi. Capital of Georgia. Hayfever capital of the world. Home to 1.5 million of the countries 5 million inhabitants. Cool city, apart from the Pollen. Been reading Ali & Nino a novel set in Georgia and Azerbaijan when world war one breaks out. Is cool to visit places you have read about, enriches the experience, makes it mean more I guess. I been trying to read stuff about wherever I am. I struggle with none fiction though, Novels are easier. I read the lonely planet too but knowing the GDP and who lived there in the 5th century BC doesn’t make a place come alive as much as some story some guy made up. Is weird that fiction can endear a place to you more than cold hard facts.

Weather is brow beatingly hot. Had a sleep then went for a walk and found Lindsay who was locked out. Helped her find the others and had a few drinks at a Bar called KGB. Their tag line is ‘still watching you’. Am well gonna buy a t-shirt.

Mountain, River and Sun.

2009-06-13T04:12:00.000-07:00

16/05/09

Stephenminda. My namesake town. Might as well be called fuckallhereminda. There is a very picturesque Monastery on top of a hill that I didn’t walk up to (the monastery on the front of the Georgia lonely planet no less) and some mountains and a river. We are at the same bushcamp we were at yesterday. Spent the day lounging around in the sun then wandered into town for a bit to get stared at. Shoulder of pork for tea. Cooked BBQ style on a fire by Tim in his big pot over the course of the whole afternoon. Was gorgeous.

More mountains

2009-06-07T01:49:00.000-07:00

15/05/09

Back into the mountains. Some different ones this time. Ice and rocks and snow and my back hurts from sitting on the truck all day. Another good setting for bushcamp though. Here for 2 days, so much for staying clean. The showers in the Soviet hotel in Gori were a joke.

Half the Story

2009-06-07T01:48:00.002-07:00

14/05/09

Gori. Stalins birthplace. Some severe Russian looking head mistress type with a pointing stick shows us round the Stalin museum. She’s as wide as she is tall, she doesn’t take breaths between sentences and knows more names and dates than I’ve had hot dinners.

Now I don’t know much about Russian history but im sure the dude with the moustache wasn’t the all round good egg Mistress Helga is making him out to be. Sure he beat the Germans and sure he brought the country into the 20th century but didn’t he kill a lot of people too? Like a lot. ‘mistakes were made’ is all Helga has to say on the matter. 3 or 4 million mistakes by most peoples reckoning.

The speel we are given feels a little bit like something the dude from 1984 would write in the minitruth. Like they have rewritten history a lil bit for their own ends. He was a local lad and they wanna remember him as a hero I think. The death mask was pretty cool though.

The whole place feels Soviet. We are in Georgia but staying in a flat, bleak Russian built hotel. The water doesn’t work properly and it has too much empty echoing space. Town looks like it got left behind and the kids know it. They stare at us and don’t smile or wave back.

Made a Georgian toast to Family at dinner; all our absent families and how they are in our thoughts and then compared Team Australia to a family. Could have got sentimental until I explained we like a family coz we argue and don’t always get on. Seemed to go down well, haha.

Cold

2009-06-07T01:48:00.001-07:00

13/05/09

Bushcamp in the mountains. Best setting yet. Cold though, for everyone except me ha ha. Polish Goose down rules.

Biking

2009-06-07T01:47:00.000-07:00

12/05/09

Incredible day mountain biking through the Caucasus Mountains: scenery, sun on my face and some great single track (get me). My knee didn’t play up either.

Days like today are the reason I came away. Fucking A.

Village

2009-06-07T01:46:00.002-07:00

11/05/09

A bumpy 2 1/2 drive to the highest permanently inhabited village in Georgia. 2220 metres up and closed off from the rest of the world for 6 months of every year because of snow.

Interesting, I wouldn’t go so far as to call it picturesque though. A completely different way of life up there; livestock and cheese making for the winter. Glad I saw it, I think. With hindsight though not sure it was worth the bullshit uncomfortable drive.

Scenery

2009-06-07T01:46:00.001-07:00

10/05/09

Nine hours on the road on some winding mountain track that wound its way through the mountains (surprise surprise) and some of the most breathtaking scenery I have ever seen.

Huge mountains, steep forests, an enormous reservoir and some pretty hair-raising hairpin bends. The roof seats were used for the first time too. Not by me though (see previous entry about 4am and vodka). We arrived at our first homestay at about 10pm. Time has changed again and we are now three hours ahead of home.

The homestay is some families’ house that they open to guests. Bit like a guesthouse or B and B. We are right up in the mountains and it feels really isolated. Apparently they only got electricity a few years ago. Scenery breathtaking though and being inside in the warm against such a harsh looking backdrop you feel really snug and proof against the elements. We’re about 2000 metres above sea level and going even higher tomorrow.

We were given a police escort through the mountains. They wanna encourage tourism and are here to make sure nothing bad happens to us. Thus implying something bad would happen if they weren’t there. There is unrest in some northern areas although we aren’t going that close to Abkazia or South Ossesita. There are six hundred bears in Georgia too. Lonely planet said so.

Dude with a Gun

2009-06-07T01:44:00.000-07:00

09/05/09

We went out for a Georgian meal. We have a guide with us in Georgia and he knows where to eat, what hotels to stay in etc. He knows where to get uncut cocaine too (only joking Mum. Honest.). Adds a whole new dimension to the trip as Tim and Cheryl keep reminding us so we are trying to make the most of having him around.

So anyway gorgeous food and lots of Georgian people dancing in a restaurant shaped like a boat. Its on the coast yeah so they all about the boats. They dancing really well too. Classy though, think strictly ballroom rather than big fish little fish. There were three young kids who were fucking amazing. They were only like eleven or something but had some moves way beyond their years. Was a bit weird really. We think maybe they were midgets and actually much older. Either that or the kids in Georgia start early man.

So Georgian food, Georgian dancing and Georgian wine. Soon enough we were Georgian drunk and asking Zarzar (the guide) to take us to another bar. We end up in some hotel bar drinking vodka and making elaborate toasts (coz it’s the custom yeah) with some Georgian dude who a few minutes earlier pulled his gun on us after we, light-heartedly, accused him of cheating at Pool. Now it was all good natured (as things often are at 3am in the morning after many a shot of vodka with some mafia looking dudes who describe their job in broken English as ‘security’) but it was still a real gun with real bullets (he showed them to me) that could really kill you.

We eventually extracted ourselves from the toast making at about 4am and headed back to the boat, which wasn’t quite so funny anymore. It kept moving yeah.

Black Sea

2009-06-07T01:43:00.001-07:00

09/05/09

Leaving Turkey and driving into Georgia we drove right along the Black Sea Coast. It’s the first time I’ve had a sense of where we are on the World Map. Like I spent the months leading up to the trip staring at my world map and picturing where I would be but since the trip began I haven’t been able to picture where we are. Until today that is. Could see Eastern Turkey and the Black sea as we entered the Caucasus (the strip of land between the Black and Caspian seas). Eastwards ever eastwards. I’ve spent months staring at a piece of paper behind glass depicting this bit of the planet and now I’m here.

Trouble at the border though, had my passport confiscated, given back to me then confiscated again. So did everyone else. Swine flu yeah. Jokers. Three and a half hours later and we’re through the border and into Georgia. One night in Batumi on the Black sea coast. I fancy a dance.

P.S. – our hotel is an old galleon moored in the harbour. Ha Ha Ha.

Close Shave

2009-06-07T01:41:00.000-07:00

08/05/09

Rain, rain and more rain and my first and probably last Turkish shave. Some dude with a cutthroat razor lathered up my face for a full five minutes then shaved me closer than I have ever been shaved before. He gave me a free cup of tea too, which was nice. Georgia tomorrow. We’re staying on a boat.

Polish Goose Down

2009-05-29T00:44:00.000-07:00

07/05/09

Long truck drive up to North East Turkey. Then a cold, wet and miserable night on some god forsaken campsite up in the mountains. Its ok though because we have fire and I have the Cumulus Mysterious traveller 650. 180 quidsworth of Polish Goose down sleeping bag par excellence. Its good down to minus 12 if you believe the label and I havent been cold yet. I actually look forward to getting into the tent. My sleeping bag rocks.

Dudes with Guns

2009-05-29T00:24:00.001-07:00

06/05/09

Bushcamp. The truck got stuck. Really stuck. The kinda stuck you prey happens to the other guy. The kinda stuck where when you talk about the amount of time required to dig it out you talk in units of half days rather than hours.

Beautiful setting though, a nice place to get stuck. A big lake, green rolling fields and mountains. Reminds me of Scotland. So anyway its stuck yeah. Stuck in the mud. A bunch of digging, loads of stones, a JCB, two helpful Turkish guys and a whole lotta man later and its free. That was fun. Not.

So we sat by the lake enjoying lamb and potatoes with rice when the Turkish army show up. No shit the army. Eight guys in a truck all touting automatic weaponry descend on us in perfect (angry and warlike) formation while we sat on our asses eating dinner. Would have been scary if we werent all so hungry. Like they were serious, they all had the sights of the rifles up against their eyes with lights on the end of them like some computer game or something (ive never been in war yeah, unless you count kwiki park, so comp games are my only frame of reference).

They flanked us, surrounded us or whatever and we're all like 'fuck this dude I'm hungry' H.U.N.G.R.Y. (than a mf yeah). Tim and Cheryl spoke to them and turns out they just doing their job. Offering assistance and making sure the Truck isnt on the road. They friendly soldiers, even gave us their number and said call if anyone hassles us. haha.

So they probably showed up to stave off boredom more than anything but was pretty cool. I had a flash bang ready anyways just in case they kicked off.

Carpet shop

2009-05-18T04:47:00.001-07:00

05/05/09

We booked. We got invited in. We got Turkish coffee and we got a lesson in the history and artistry of Turkish Carpet making. All double knotted don’t you know, not like that Persian rubbish.

Silk on silk, cotton on wool, wool on cotton and wool on wool. Some carpets take seven years per square metre to make. Allegedly.

Learnt how to tell a good carpet from a bad one and learnt that flying carpets are the ones that change colour.

They are all beautiful (well the ones I like are beautiful) and if money were no object I’d be buying them as presents left right and centre. Unfortunately money is an object so no carpets for anyone today. I got the dudes name though so maybe in the future…

H.A.B.M.F

2009-05-18T04:29:00.000-07:00

04/05/09

Hot air balooning over Cappadokia at dawn. It rocked. Check the book for pictures.

Tunes

2009-05-18T04:28:00.000-07:00

04/05/09

A cave. Sheltered from the rain. A roaring fire and someone’s ipod on shuffle (It’s a cave with electricity and a hearth ok). Man I love music. Its weird hearing tunes I know from back home. Like, I’m rocking the pod on the truck and stuff but hearing tunes you like played out loud on someone else’s speakers is different. Its like when a film you own comes on TV and you wanna watch it, makes it more real somehow.

Fate tunes. Someone wrote about them in a book I read once. You take a tune and twist the words so they fit your situation perfectly. Like, they could have no relevance to your own life; it could by fucking Space Oddity or something. But you take the words and, inside of your brain, convince yourself they singing about your life and your feelings, that they sum up you and whatever happened or whoever or something perfectly. Then, whenever you hear them, you get reminded and you get upset. Fate tunes. Watch out for them. Otherwise you might end up sat in a cave with your new friends trying not to cry.

We already had Cannonball and Smile like you mean it. It sucks when cool tunes remind you of shit times.

3 ½ hours later though and Temptation just came on. There is a 6 minute 53 second electronic yin to every yang yeah.

Cave Dwellers

2009-05-18T04:13:00.000-07:00

03/05/09

Capadokia. Complete underground cities carved out of the living (dead) rock. If you were a kid round here you would never get bored. You could play hide and seek forever in these caves. They are well cool. Hot day though and I’m all caved out.

The town looks like the town in Desperado. Gonna get me a guitar case.

Whirling Dervishes

2009-05-18T04:00:00.000-07:00

02/05/09

We're in Capadokia now in central Turkey. Dave’s birthday today and we're off to a traditional Turkish evening. Food and alcohol all in along with a performance by some whirling dervishes no less. Apparently they are a mystical Islamic sect that perform a whirling dance to enter a trance and speak to Allah. Sounds awesome.

The restaurant is an underground cave. It’s a cool setting complete with authentic type carpets and benches and lamps and stuff to make it, you know, authentic yeah.

And the dance? Some bullshit Turkish version of a bunch of Butlins redcoats. Kinda fun in a naff amateur we’re-all-on-a-cruise-please-entertain-us kind of a way but I was bored after ten minutes. The dance (inevitably) told a story and so went on for ages. Free booze though and if that’s not mystic Islam then I don’t know what is.

They made Dave belly dance too. Brilliant.

Lazy Days

2009-05-18T03:55:00.000-07:00

01/05/09

Lazy day by the Black sea. Today I have been mostly sat/lead (?) in a Hammock reading about Blood and Oil in Central Asia. Everything is about Oil and where Oil and Gas pipelines go. Afghanistan, the recent war in Georgia and whatever else you can think of - Oil, oil and more Oil. Sometimes it’s Gas, but mainly its Oil yeah. Oil and deep water harbors.

Asia

2009-05-18T03:53:00.000-07:00

30/04/09

Left Europe behind today. Crossed the Bospherus and entered Asia. Continent number two. Feels like the adventure is starting to begin.

***

Went Kyaking on the black sea. Saw lots of Jelly fish, got wet. Lovely weather and nothing to do tomorrow. Brilliant.

Istanbul

2009-05-04T00:21:00.001-07:00

27/04/09 - 29/04/09

Istanbul Muthafucka. Constantınople, Byzantıum, Roman, Chrıstıan, Muslım; Whatever. Dude, thıs place was old when they founded London. Its bıg, ıts bad (ıts got mınarets) and ıt don't gıve a fuck.

We're ın a cool hostel rıght ın the mıddle of the old town on the European sıde (the cıtıes ın two contınents too yeah). We here for three days.

Hıt the sıtes on day one. Saw more Mosques than you can shake a prayer mat at. Saw the Aıa Sophıa too. One thousand four hundred years old; used to be a bıg ass Church then got converted ınto a Mosque and now ıts a museum. Pretty amazıng buıldıng. So ıs the Blue Mosque, ıts pretty much the coolest buıldıng I have seen so far (and I been all about the buıldıngs yeah). Went to the Grand Bazaar too. Ha Ha Ha.

Imagıne Preston market, the ındoor upstaırs bıt, then multıply the number of stalls by about four thousand. Add an aggressıve but good natured Turkısh Salesman stood outsıde each one tryıng desperatley to get you to buy hıs carpets, chess sets, cheap aftershave, carpets, pots and pans, carpets, pottery, lamps, carpets, clothes, shoes, carpets, coffee, carpets or whatever and you'll have a pretty good ıdea of what ıts lıke. Make eye contact and you're screwed.

Thıngs Turkısh bazaar workers say to people who walk by:

'Come ın I have shawl for your mother ın law'

'Come ın, thıngs almost free ın here'

'Can I help you spend your money?'

'Those restaurants all have customers, I have none. Please come ın here'

'For you specıal prıce, you are my second customer today'

'Good day my mate, are you Australıan?'

'Lovely Jubly'

and my favourıte...

Carpet guy: 'Do you want to buy a carpet?'
Rıch: 'Carpet, I dont have a house'
Carpet guy: 'aww, everybody cry'

Hagglıng ıs the law too. The advısed startıng poınt ıs to take the quoted prıce and quarter ıt straıght away then take thıngs from there. If you really wanna confuse them start hagglıng upwards, ıts about the only thıng they dont have an ımmedıate answer for.

Went to a fısh restaurant and the dude brougt out a bıg slab wıth whole (and very fresh) fısh on ıt and let us choose the fısh we wanted. You dont get that at home. There are Kebobs on every street corner too. They cost about 2 quıd and they are fuckıng delıcıous. I've lost count of the number I've eaten. Ask for Donner meat and chıps though and all you wıll get ıs a blank look.

Smoked shısha pıpes, played backgammon, got drunk, got lost, got specıal prıce and eventually got used to the fıve tımes daıly call to prayer. Istanbul rocks. It was not gıvıng a fuck long before I knew ıt exısted and wıll stıll be rockıng out long after we are all dead and gone.

Pretty much my number one deffo fave place so far. Yes please.

Bulgarıa

2009-05-01T02:43:00.000-07:00

26/04/09

Saw a beautıful Orthodox Russıan style church buılt about 100 years ago. Words cant do ıt justıce. Go there now and marvel at Churchy mosıac type magnıfıcence. Its called the Shıpka Monastery of the natıvıty of Chrıst and ıts ın Bulgarıa, whıch ıs next to Romanıa. The palce wıth the castle that dıdnt belong to Vlad Teppes.

Romanıa, tıs a sılly place

2009-05-01T02:39:00.001-07:00

26/04/09

So we've left. We spent fıve days ın thıs untamed, lıtter strewn, wıld rollıng land. Its been by far the most ınterestıng country so far. Poor, half fınıshed and left me feelıng slıghtly ıll at ease. The bıg places are seedy and the small places are peasant lıke and stuck ın a tıme warp where people seem to eek out exıstences ın half fınıshed houses. Its a beautıful country though and even ıf the Dracula lınk ıs tenuıous at best talkıng ın a mock transalvanıan accent has kept me amused for days.

Onwards ever onwards now to Bulgarıa. Land of the Bulgers...

Bucharest

2009-05-01T02:33:00.000-07:00

25/04/09

Bucharest, Capıtal of Romanıa. Doesn't really feel lıke a capıtal. More lıke a major cıty, Manchester or Lıverpool or somethıng. Its seedy too, there ıs deffo some local colour here. Fırst place I haven't felt entırely safe. Fırst place I've seen prostıtutes too. I lıke ıt for all that stuff though, ıts ınterestıng, shady. Not as Cosmopolıtıan as PestBuda and hte shadwo fo havıng been rıpped off yesterday ıs lıngerıng. Keep expectıng to meet Curly, Larry and Mo ın some backstreet bar, spendıng our money wıth dancıng gırls sat on theır laps.

Wnet for a group meal ın some beautıfully maıntaıned old wooden buıldıng. Food not great (was lamblasted for orderıng frıes wıth cheese, not very sophısto sure but sometımes you just want cheesy chıps yeah) but the settıng was exceptıonal. Few drınks afterwards then back to camp. Had a fılm nıght and watched one half of Juno before the laptop battery gave way. We leave Romanıa tomorrow.

50 Leı

2009-05-01T00:34:00.000-07:00

24/04/09

Man, thıs story ıs gonna grow legs, I can tell. By the tıme we get to Southeast Asıa there wıll have been an entıre regıment of the natıonal guard, two Elephants, a detachment of lıght artıllery and Count Dracula hımself on that fuckıng bus. But anyway; our fırst brush wıth offıcaldom demands retellıng. The fıne yeah, ıs 50 Leı.

Fırst mornıng ın a new cıty we get a pep talk, Cheryl (Odyssey Crew) dıshes out maps wıth bus routes and poınts of ınterest hıghlıghted ın marker pen. We get told whıch bus to catch, the name of the stop to get off at etc etc. Its top notch; we get spoon fed the ınformatıon we need and we're off to enjoy the day.

So, Romanıa, Bucharest the capıtal, we need bus number 301 to get from the campsıte ınto town. You can't buy bus tıckets from the campsıte you have to buy them from the aırport (I know, you probably buy plane tıckets from the bus statıon but we're ın Romanıa yeah, they do shıt dıfferent). Its all ok though because the aırport ıs only 1Km away and on the way ınto town. A fıfteen mınute walk and we're there.

My ass ıts 1Km. 2.5Km later and we're ın the mıddle of a busy turnpıke/freeway/motorway/autobahn/whatever and no ones seen or heard a fuckıng plane all day. There are Bus stops though. Only reason we wanna get to the aırport ıs because we're honest travellers and we wanna buy a tıcket. We have had enough walkıng now though and thınk fuck ıt. In England you buy the tıcket from the drıver yeah. Surely ın Romanıa you can do the same thıng rıght? Wrong.

Team Bucharest fell foul of a well organısed Bus tıcket scam. The drıver, god bless hıs dıspassıonate soulless heart, waves us onto the bus assurıng us the lack of a tıcket ısn't a problem. We're all sat down when who jumps on at the next stop but Curly Larry and Mo. Mr. Bus Drıvers 3 tıcket ınspectıng frıends. They don't bother wıth the other passengers but head straıght for us and polıtely ask to see our tıckets. When do 3 tıcket ınspectors all get on a bus together? When they have been tıpped off by the drıver and the bus has 3 possıble exıts they need to cover thats when.

We polıtely ask to buy tıckets, polıtely explaın the mısunderstandıng about the aırport and polıtely explaın that the drıver told us ıt wouldn't be a problem. We are ımpolıtely told we made a mıstake and need to pay a 50 Leı fıne each. Thats about a tenner each whıch ısn't a lot sure but that ısn't the poınt.

Whıle these polıte conversatıons are takıng place Jonny bus drıver ıs controllıng the doors, allowıng Romanıan passengers (none of whom have been asked to provıde tıckets) on and off whıle ensurıng our nearest door remaıns shut and ıs guarded by one of the three stooges.

The conversatıons soon turn ımpolıte. The tıcket ınspectors look shıfty, they wont make eye contact and won't have a proper conversatıon. They just get arsey and repeat themselves. Alex ısn't gonna pay. Alex ıs French and don't take no shıt from nobody. He pıcks up on theır body language and tells them exactly what he thınks. As he trıes to get up and off the bus he gets body checked by Curly whıle Larry and Mo start callıng Lındsay names ın Romanıan. Some of team Bucharest have gıven ın and pay the fıne but the hardlıners are sıttıng tıght refusıng to pay any more than the cost of a tıcket - sıghtıng the drıvers duplıcıty as evıdence ın theır defense. By thıs tıme we are past our stop, there are no passengers left on the bus and there ıs talk of the Polıce statıon and hıgher fınes. Several tense mınutes pass, they seem serıous. We dont wanna go to the Polıce statıon. Certaın members of the Romanıan Polıce force (members known to Curly, Larry and Mo no doubt) are lıkely a corrupt bunch and wıll sıde wıth the stooges and keep us waıtıng around all day before chargıng us an even bıgger fıne. But we also don't wanna pay a fıne for a honest mıstake we were lead ınto makıng by Jonny Bus drıver.

People are swearıng ın Romanıan, Englısh and French. Doors are blocked and the Romanıans are demandıng money. Lıps are pursed, resolve tıghtens and ıt looks as though we'll be goıng to the Polıza after all. Nobody wants thıs. Debbıe and myself offer a compromıse. We'll pay one fıne to cover all seven of us. Thıs ısn't much more than the cost of seven tıckets and consıderıng theır dıshonest scam seems reasonable. Curly laughs. He shakes hıs head and calls 'Polıza' to the drıver.

Several more tense mınutes pass. Lıps are pursed even more and resolve tıghtens agaın then begıns to losen a bıt as the prospect of a day ın a Romanıan Polıce cell becomes a realıty.

Luckıly for us the resolve of the tıcket ınspectors losens a bıt as well. Maybe theır threat of the Polıce ısn't as serıous as they made out. We sıt ıt out. We offered our compromıse and aren't prepared to budge any more. Brıtısh upper lıps have stıffened, French dont gıve a fuckness ıs not gıvıng a fuck and Malaysıan honesty has been affronted and now ıt wants a word wıth a Polıce offıcer.

We're alone on the bus at thıs poınt and he does ındeed seen to have veered off course and be makıng hıs way to the Polıce statıon. Suddenly Curly, the only Englısh speakıng ınspector, pıpes up and ın whıspered tones says 'earlıer you mentıoned a compromıse'.

We've won, kınd of. We end up payıng three fınes to cover seven people. It amounts to about a fıver each and we are free to go on our way.

As we walk off ınto town we see the four of them stood on the pavement dıvıdıng up our money. Arseholes.

Now we could have waıted ıt out and possıbly got away wıth payıng less or payıng just for the tıckets or not payıng at all or whatever. Trouble ıs Romanıa ıs a poor country wıth corrupt people ın posıtıons of power. In England ıts easy to argue wıth offıcıals because essentıally the law, to a greater or lesser degree, ıs on the sıde of faırness. It don't work lıke that here and the possıbılıty of a cell was a very real one. We could have walked the 1000 mıles to the aırport and bought tıckets or we could have paıd the whole fıne lıke honest cıtızens. All thıngs consıdered I thınk we dıd pretty well to talk them down.

Legends

2009-04-25T03:30:00.001-07:00

23/04/09

The Legend:

Bram castle, The stronghold of Vlad Teppes, Vlad the impaler. A barbaric medieval warlord who became Count Dracula, an evil blood sucking demon from the nether regions of hell itself.

The truth:

Not actually his castle. No historical evidence to suggest he ever even visited it. Not once. Nada. Didn't even pop in for a brew on his way to an impaling. Dracula a fictional character. Castle a bit rubbish.

Still a lovely day though. We had lunch by the roadside. Donated a hot dog to a homeless looking Romanian man who seemed very much in need and asked for some food. He, rather rudely, demanded ketchup. We gave him ketchup. As we drove off we saw him walk into his semi detached home.

Cheeky Bastard.

Bushcamp

2009-04-25T03:22:00.001-07:00

22/04/09

Used Axe. Chopped wood. Made fire. Men are here.

Sighisoara

2009-04-25T03:19:00.000-07:00

22/04/09

Birthplace of Vlad Teppes, Vlad the impaler as he was known, the dude Bram Stoker based Dracula on. I can't stop speaking like the count from Sesame Street, ha ha ha...

The town is cool, Medieval and very old plus they haven't over played the Dracula card, which is nice. A very old church with a Crypt, a walled Citadel with a bunch of towers run by various guilds and lemonade in the Sun.

Take it Easy

2009-04-25T02:46:00.000-07:00

21/04/09

I'm driving down the road trying to lighten my load I got blah bla blah bla blah blah blah...

We had Monica's driving play list on the truck today. Hot Sun, 500km, the Eagles (I hate the fucking Eagles Man), Dolly Parton and more country music than you can shake a stick at. Was actually pretty cool, the tunes suited the day; nice scenery and a buoyant mood.

We keep trucking through Romania which, just to reemphasize, is half finished. Every building I have seen, every building, isn't yet complete. They must get a tax break for living in half finished houses or something. Either that or they lazy.

Gorge walking in Transylvania

2009-04-25T02:41:00.000-07:00

21/04/09

Took a picture of a Lizard I'm very proud of.

The campsite we are supposed to be staying at is shut so Tim and Cheryl (the odyssey crew) have, to use their motto, made a plan. Our first hotel stop will be Sighisoara, the home town of Vlad Teppes (Dracula). Need to stock up on the garlic.

Jumpers for goal posts

2009-04-25T00:54:00.000-07:00

20/04/09

A sloping field somewhere in Romania, 3 Romanian kids all under twelve, all smoking. A half pumped up Casey and the Odyssey first team unfit and panting. Good fun though, even if my complete lack of skill is all too apparent (how come there in never a bball court when you want one?).

They beat us 5 -4.

Romania

2009-04-25T00:50:00.000-07:00

20/04/09

Hung over, early start, cook duty; up at 5.45am. I’ll say that again: hung over, early start, cook duty; up at 5.45am.

A beautiful sunny day and onwards through Hungary to Romania. Land of the Gypsies, Dracula’s castle and our first bush camp. That’s where we just rock up and camp anywhere we think is nice. No campsite, no showers, no nothing. Just us, the tents, the truck and the wildlife…

Man, Romania looks half finished. Soon as we crossed the border the change is obvious. Piles of rubble everywhere, half built houses and big industrial type iron pipelines rusting away in the sun. Its like they started it then found something better somewhere else and all fucked off.

Saw two women in a horse and cart and another sweeping her patch of dusty half finished pavement. They all looked Gypsy like. It’s the first country where I have noticed an obvious difference. Feels like we are leaving the familiar, slightly tacky, Eurotrash France/Germany sort of Europe behind and are entering more wild country. Looking forward to Bush camp; just need to sharpen my spear...

The journey home

2009-04-25T00:48:00.000-07:00

19/04/09

Not really sure what to say about the journey home but it needs recording for posterity’s sake.

Imagine, if you will, a bunch of half drunk but well meaning travelling types anxious to get back in time for a meal. A meal another bunch of well meaning travelling types have lovingly prepared for them in the mobile kitchen of a large blue truck. The scene: the bustling streets and avenues of Budapest in all their grandiose charm. Budapest on a national holiday no less, where marathon runners and bicycle riding environmental campaigners have taken to the streets in their thousands. Throw in a complete loss of bearings and no clear leadership and then consider that the people involved have known each other just long enough (and are just drunk enough) to not have to be entirely polite to one another. Add the name of a campsite hastily scribbled (in Hungarian) onto three crumpled bits of paper, three taxis, three distinctly different prices and there you have it.

We were late. Peel and Chop group didn’t seem to mind.

The Kids

2009-04-25T00:45:00.000-07:00

19/04/09

Fat Mo’s was shut so Corrie took us all to where the kids hang out to celebrate Debbie’s birthday. I didn’t notice any of them doing the new dance, mainly because they were sat down, but I got the impression they would be doing the new dance if they were dancing. Felt like I’d walked straight into some Hoxton bar. Half expected Chris to pop up from somewhere. Seriously. Szimpla was its name; a half finished warehouse type affair with Graffiti everywhere and empty bathtubs and halves of cars for chairs. Trendy bars must look the same all over Europe. Must admit I’m a bit of a trendy bar whore though so I thought it was ace. The barmaid called me an ape for not speaking Hungarian but I reckon having people be rude to you is part of what makes it cool.

Budapest

2009-04-25T00:42:00.000-07:00

19/04/09

Buda and Pest, Pest and Buda. Was two cites, now its one. Woohoo. Its Sunday and a national holiday judging by all the closed shops. Orthodox Easter I think.

Bus in from Waddaca and then several trams to various points of interest. Saw Saint Stephen’s Baliska. The resting place of my namesakes mummified right hand, so I’m told. Quite want to touch it in a weird kind of way but it’s in a big gold box. Looks a bit like the ark of the covenant; I’m closing my eyes if they open it haha.

I’ve never seen so much Gold in a church or anywhere for that matter. Don’t think the Hungarians have read the bit about Camels and rich men and the eye of a needle. I think I prefer Budapest to Prague though. Not as touristy and the impressive buildings stand out all the more for it.

On my own at the moment; meeting Team Buda in Pest at four for birthday drinks. It's Debbie’s birthday today and we are gonna celebrate at Fat Mo’s Speakeasy, haha. Best Bar in town according to Lonely Planet. Duff anyone?

Currently sat on an island in the middle of the Danube having just finished speaking to two theatre nurses from the Philippines. Tried explaining the truck to them, was gutted I didn’t have a photo. It’s a bit dusty and my lips are dry and I can’t be arsed walking but there are loads of road/tram works everywhere so think I’m gonna have to. Bullshit national holiday works. Probably some engineer who’s just become a father in charge of it all, fucking up my day.

Laters.

Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner

2009-04-25T00:37:00.000-07:00

18/04/09

A first for me today. Had breakfast in the Czech Republic, Lunch by the roadside in Slovakia and Dinner in Hungary. Three meals, three countries check me out. Its how I roll yeah.

We are flying through the European stage of this journey no mistake. Things slow down once we get to Turkey but so far it’s been a whistle stop tour.

Long drive in the truck today. I will talk about truck life and about my friends on the road I promise but is early days yet and I wanna do it (and them) justice.

The buildings began to change today, we’re in central Europe now and there is a marked difference in architecture and landscape.

We arrived at a campsite in Hungary which reminds me so much of Waddaca (scout camp when I was a kid) its scary. Its all wooden steps and broken trails through trees. No assault course though, gutted. There is a real sense of peace and tranquility about the place – probably something to do with childhood memories of scout camp or some shit I reckon but I feel right at home here. Could spend a week just chilling out. The main campsite building is an old tram station and everything is made of wood. The bar is the sort of place you install yourself in for a whole evening in front of a big log fire to wait out bad weather. Excellent.

Budapest tomorrow. Armed with 15,000 in currency and a borrowed AA guide am resolved to do it my way (clumsily and without forethought).

Captains log supplemental: Gestalt thinking and critical decision making mass

2009-04-25T00:34:00.000-07:00

17/04/09

I think its called gestalt thinking or gestalt psychology, I read about it once but I could be wrong. Its when you go with the flow, let life take you where it will instead of carving your own path or doing it your way or whatever. I bet there are a million self help books on the subject. I’ve been very conscious of it so far on this trip. It’s difficult. Like, you wanna spend time with the group – everyone is dead sound (its only day 5 admittedly, month five and this opinion may have changed haha) and everyone has something interesting to say and something to add and then there is the camaraderie of the trip and all being in it together and things. But also you wanna do what you want, see what you wanna see and go at your own pace and stuff. Trying to strike a balance is hard.

Today was a great example. Team Prague consisted of about a dozen hardened adventuring types. Each trying out their Berghaus/mountain equipment/north face/whatever brightly coloured man made fabric jackets in anger for the first time. Trouble is critical decision making mass is about four people, five at best. Twelve is way more than four or five (or four add five) therefore we spent the day in gestalt mode: getting separated, meeting up, straggling, arranging to meet later and then repeating the process. Everyone gets hungry, thirsty, impatient and snap happy at different times and all wanna do their own thing but wanna stay with the group too.

The solution? Kill eight of the twelve or, in each city, travel in together then arrange to meet at around 5pm; enjoy a drink and all travel back together. You get the freedom to see shit your way (on a unicycle, backwards, in 3D or whatever) and the reassurance of not having to figure out bus and tram timetables written in a foreign language on your own.

I’ll let you know how it goes…

Prague, in the rain…

2009-04-25T00:33:00.001-07:00

17/04/09

Prague today. Rainy and wet. Time to find out if £130 of lime green Gortex pro shell is worth the money. So far so good it has to be said; the walk, the bus, the walk, the tram, the castle, the changing of the guard plus about one hundred photos and still dry as a bone.

The city is ram packed full of tourists, me one of them, and it shows. Charles bridge is filled with Caricature artists and there are shops selling tat everywhere. Every restaurant has a ‘special price’ and a woman on autopilot keeps trying to sell us discounted concert tickets. It is pretty though and Kafa lived here which I didn’t know. Saw the small blue house he lived in near the castle.

I tried reading ‘The Castle’ once but gave up half way through; it was pretty dense. Feel like trying again now but think I might try ‘Metamorphosis’ instead on Louise’s recommendation. Dude turns into a fly, sounds ace.

Interestingly Louise and Emma boycotted a shop today because the merchandise wasn’t tacky enough. Weird.

An omelette, an apple pie and a few beers later I’m back at the campsite writing this with numb fingers awaiting Goulash for tea. Its still raining. Glad I’m not on peel and chop duty.

The kindness of strangers

2009-04-25T00:30:00.000-07:00

16/04/09

Long truck journey to Prague. Backgammon and the overt generosity of a large German lady fill the day.

Stopped at a truck stop and a coach load of German tourists decided to donate their not inconsiderable stock of spare food to our cause. A whole ham, a box of bread rolls, two tubs of potato salad and two tubs of Angel delight serve as lunch.

The Germans are happy to donate the food and we are happy to receive it. Unfortunately the language barrier separates us and the only possible interaction is a series of well meaning nods and smiles. Some king (or Queen) thousands of years ago should have forced us all to speak the same language, killing anyone who refused. Not very humane sure but at least today we wouldn’t have this problem.

Off duty tonight, I feel the alcohol calling me…

PS – That Glasvegas tune has just come on Truck FM – He’s gone, he’s gone oh oh oooh oh… haha

Bamburg

2009-04-22T05:34:00.000-07:00

15/04/09

Bamburg today. Another Cathedral. No idea how long this one took to build. The city is very picturesque though, painted buildings, fancy art work and guilding everywhere. Walked into town with some of the guys, few false starts but we got there in the end. Trying to watch the pennies through Europe so no beers in town.

I was on cook duty tonight. Its more peel and chop duty really, the Odyssey crew do most of the actual cooking. Still, I was on duty all the same.

Phone stopped working today so didn't get a chance to speak to Gereana before she goes to Benidorm. I asked them to stop it last week but having second thoughts now. Is good to keep in touch even if it costs.

Prague tomorrow, I fancy a drink.

PS. didnt manage to find any smoked beer so it remains a mystery.

View number one

2009-04-15T06:26:00.000-07:00

14/04/09

First drive with a nice view today. Rolling hills, sunshine and quaint little cottages somewhere in Germany. Lovely. Not talked about the truck much yet. I will, but not yet. Need to get a feel for it first I think, sus it out, discover its secrets.

Bamburg next. Home of smoked beer.

I don't know how the fuck they smoke it either.

Sausage

2009-04-15T06:25:00.000-07:00

13/04/09

In Germany you order sausage by the metre. I´m moving here.

Day 2, Country 3

2009-04-15T06:15:00.000-07:00

13/04/09

Germany. Colne. Colne Cathederal. 632 years. What the fuck takes 632 years? Building Colne Cathederal does thats what. Like seriously 632 years? The pyramids didn't take that long.

I bet it was one guy. Some 600 year old German dude building it himself brick by brick. Arch by arch. Weirdly inappropriate signs of the zodiac stained glass window by weirdly inappropriate signs of the zodiac stained glass window. His very own Grand Design. Probably project managed it himself and thats why it took so long. It is impressive though. But 632 years come on.

Night One

2009-04-15T06:06:00.001-07:00

13/04/09

Slept ok. The sleeping bag rocks, Polish Goose down was deffo the way to go. The Thermarest matress-you-inflate-yourself did the job too.

Must admit I'm pretty jealous of Alex's sleeping mat though. Its wide and thick. Wider and thicker than mine. Wideness and thickness are pretty much the qualities you're after in a sleeping mat I reckon. Looks and a sense of humour optional.

Tent was simple to erect and triangle shaped. Again triangle shaped is the quality you want in a tent. 3 poles and few pegs, simple. Geostatic can kiss my ass. At least until ours falls down anyway.

Now leaving Belgium (I didn't even have a beer - gutted) and onwards to Germany.

I actually used some French about 15 minutes ago. First time ever I think. I ordered a whole coffee with cream and said thankyou. Impressive I know. Might even ask for something in German tonight. Who needs a point it book?

French Interlude

2009-04-15T05:49:00.000-07:00

12/04/09

France. Miles and miles (and miles) of well cultivated farmland. Big, flat fields of tilled earth with big, muddy, weed filled drainage ditches lining either side of the road. A rough looking Frenchman pisses into one of them as the truck trundles by. Nice.

They got different Pilons too. Massive space invader shaped electricity pilons from Mars. They look like something from that TV program Tripods. Think that was set in France.

The truck thus far is pretty much as expected. Everyone is in good spirits; friendly, bouyed up by enthuasiasm and doing their best to remember names. Me included. I haven't quite got everyones yet and probably won't for a while. I'm sat round a table which is nice and sociable but not great for the legs. Hope we get to swap seats over the course of the next 6 months.

There was ferry trip prior to the fields of France and an uneventful arrival in Belgium. Spag bol for tea, which was excellent, and then on with the camping.

PS - my tents name is Tarquin.

London

2009-04-15T05:30:00.000-07:00

12/04/09

London, London London. I like London. I'm forever meeting people who have never been slagging it off. Idiots. Obviously I'm biased because I moved here when I was Eighteen, went to University and did everything that Eighteen year olds at University do (including developing a life long aversion to Tequila and unlawfully procurring several road traffic signs - the zanyness of which I'm thoroughly ashamed of now). But you know, London yeah, I like it.

So anyway this is where it begins: 1 truck, 6 months, 21 countries; Lions and Tigers and Bears, Big Fat spiders, stopping to prey 5 times a day, Mt. Everest, the Caspian Sea, a couple of deserts and one of the lowest points on Earth. Along with 21 new friends. Maybe.

I'm more nervous about who I share a tent with; will they snore? Will I snore? Will I snore and will they be too embarassed to wake me up and spend the whole trip secretly cursing me? Will I be too embarassed to wake them and spend the whole trip being cranky? Who knows.

So anyway. London yeah and tonight... Belgium.

I've never been to Belgium and I kow fuck all about it. I guess that makes it new experience number 1.

Can't wait...

Victory ! ! !

2009-04-11T08:41:00.001-07:00

I did it! Kind of. After much heartache and a very difficult decision to only take 1 pair of jeans I managed to fit everything into the rucksack. True to its name the Lowe Alpine Wilderness TX 65+15 now contains 65+15 litres of my belongings and not 1 drop more. There may be a small tent and a thermarest self inflating (my ass) mattress strapped to the outside but that's by the by.

Now lets see if I can carry it...

Possibly the most useful gift in the world...

2009-04-11T08:21:00.001-07:00

Its a pocket sized book. It contains photographs of objects and foodstuffs. Lots of them. More than you imagine. There are at least 5 different types of Broom. Honest.

The idea is that when in foreign lands you point at the relevant photograph, make grunting noises and then flash some cash. If your English, as I happen to be, it may help to repeat the grunt at an amplified volume and enunciate more clearly until the correct type of broom is produced.

Their lack of faith in my linguistic skill aside many thanks to Gareth and Sophie for the gift of chicken thighs and brooms, where ever I may be.

Arty Photo, attempt Number 1.

2009-03-18T12:43:00.000-07:00

Not than I'm avoiding the rucksack by taking pictures of Bob or anything.

Work it baby

2009-03-13T13:48:00.001-07:00

Today I bought a Canon PowerShot A590 IS. It does lots of things I don't understand; yet it is with this hunk of silvery grey metal that I intend to visually chronicle my battle with the rucksack. I shall also document the world as I see it in pixelated brilliance.

Candid and insightful photographs coming soon...

One Month to Go

2009-03-12T06:46:00.000-07:00

Not long left before I leave so figured I'd start the blog. The intention is to chronicle my travels for anyone who might be interested, which probably amounts to me, Gereana and possibly my Mum. I've already been warned not to talk about cool stuff to people who didn't come with me when I get back; so herein lies my outlet for all things cool. Because obviously only cool stuff is going to happen, right?

I'm going to deliberately try and NOT talk about the beautiful scenery and describe at length all the amazing places I'm hopefully going to visit. I read a few blogs from the people who did the trip last year and there is something a bit uninteresting and dull about someone else's account of how amazing everything is. Instead its going to be all about me and how I feel about stuff. The blood, the sweat, the tears and the travellers diarrhea.

The whole going away and writing about it is a pretty masturbatory thing to do anyway I think. Its a little self indulgent and a bit egocentric to assume anyone cares. Going away for an extended period of time you also become conspicuous by your absence. This smacks of attention seeking which, in all honesty, is probably what the whole thing is about. So pay attention yeah.

Incidentally, this candid insight is supposed to exhonorate me from said self indulgent psychological masterbation and make you think 'gosh ste actually is the insightful writer he always wanted to be'. The plan is to make it the first of many such candid insights culmenating in peace on earth, goodwill to everyone and the nobel prize for literature. At least thats the plan.

So now we got the plan sorted its on with the how I feel about stuff bit. I'm working from home today which, contrary to popular belief, actually involves quite a lot of work. Having completed the work this morning I'm now sat on my bed staring depressingly at the not really so big mountain of stuff I have so far failed to pack into a generously proportioned 80 litre rucksack. Its more a small pile of stuff really but it definitely wont all go in.

As the first of no doubt many challenges I'm a bit disappointed with myself. Its supposed to be girls going on holiday who can't get everything in the bag not hardy adventuring types like myself (ahem, ahem). I maybe don't need to take my trangear stove. Maybe. I'm also not taking my straighteners before you ask.

A cup of tea and a rethink is in order so watch this space... (bet you're on the edge of your seat)